


the perfect moment (a perfect storm)

by raggirare



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, McGenji Week, pacrim au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 08:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8395399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raggirare/pseuds/raggirare
Summary: Passing time by counting kaiju attacks and ranger deaths and reminders that you still haven't confessed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> shows up four days late with starbucks this was a fucking beast but i refused to give up because i'm a sucker for pacrim
> 
> ages (as of 2020/start of fic)  
> jesse: 23  
> genji: 21  
> hanzo: 24  
> gabriel: 36
> 
> notes that didn't quite make it in/aren't super important:
> 
> -saad abied is a saudi arabian blackwatch oc i use as a second in command to reyes in stuff. in this case, he's not dead, just sick, cause he was originally a mark 1 jaeger pilot before chupacabra, a mark 4, was finished. he was pulled out at first signs of radiation poisoning, didn't get worse but was banned from piloting further
> 
> -chupacabra was based in the tokyo shatterdome from 2017 till early 2019 where they returned to LA. mid 2019, saad was diagnosed. late 2019 gabe brought on jesse.
> 
> -deadlock gang is part of the kaiju black market. jesse got picked up by them as a late teen. was found by a military gabe in the right place right time (unable to be proven to be associated with deadlock). gabe dragged him into ppdc and eventually the academy. legally adopts him in 2023.
> 
> -the shimada clan are similar to hannibal chau in that they have exclusive kaiju trading rights in return for financing the japanese defenses. they privately fund nagasaki shatterdome and ao sousha so they basically get away with a lot of shit bc the japanese govt doesn't wanna say bye to half their defences against the kaiju

_Japan, 2020; Nagasaki Shatterdome  
Active Jaeger Teams: Ao Sousha (Japan), MEKA (South Korea), Chupacabra (USA)_

Shatterdomes were rarely the places to build fond memories, but setting foot on Japanese soil again gave Gabriel some sense of ease. He had not served in this base specifically but there was still a sense of familiarity to it with the jaegers in the bay he had arrived in and the faces of the pair of rangers who had come to meet him. He bowed a greeting. One offered a hand. The other simply threw himself at Gabriel, tickling bright green strands of hair against his neck. 

“Hello to you, too, Genji,” he chuckled. He returned the embrace, one arm wrapping around the younger brother’s back and his free hand reached to shake the older brother’s hand. “You look well, Hanzo.”

“And you.” Hanzo let their hands drop and Genji eased away to stand beside his brother again. “I will admit, when the Marshall informed me that Los Angeles was sending Chupacabra, I did not allow myself to hope. Not so soon after the news about Abied-san.” Hanzo paused a moment, silence in respect with a bow of his head “I know that you Americans are not so bonded to your jaegers as we are, so I thought perhaps there was a new crew.”

A bark of a laugh briefly drew the attention of nearby technicians but went largely unnoticed in the din of the jaeger bay. “I’ll be dead before I let someone pilot her without me,” Gabriel’s tone held a promise bordering on an oath as he turned his head and strained his neck to look up at the jaeger looming over them. “Saad was the same, but with everything that’s happened, he’s just happy as long as I’m around.”

Hanzo was calm, as comfortable in his own skin as Gabriel remembered him being back in Tokyo three years ago, but Genji was less content to stand still. His eyes flickered around and his weight shifted from foot to foot, and Gabriel might have been concerned if he wasn’t already used to Shimada antics.

“But if Abied-san is not co-piloting with you, then who is?”

“What—“ Surprise betrayed Gabriel, drawing his gaze down first to the rangers opposite him and then glancing around in the immediate vicinity, as though he had only now realised that his co-pilot hadn’t joined him in greeting their hosts. “ _Puta mierda,_ I’ll wring that damn _pendejo_ ’s neck.” 

There was laughter from Genji, followed by some comment or other in Japanese, but Gabriel paid it no mind. He was too distracted with searching the crowd of technicians milling about in search of his ward. And, when he finally spotted him, the unmistakeable hat giving him away even more than his height above the local staff, there was only one thing to do.

The deep yet clear yell of, “ _Vaquero!_ ” cut through the loud noise of the shatterdome with little effort. It echoed, even, for a moment before being absorbed by the hundreds of soft bodies around them, but it still hit each and every person within earshot. Many stopped. Some even found themselves standing to attention, tricked by the commanding tone.

Like some childish game of Marco Polo, there came a laughing reply.

“ _Jefe!_ ”

Gabriel growled.

——

“Gabriel never told us he had a son.”

Something about the Nagasaki Shatterdome felt off. It was familiar enough in design and layout to remind Jesse of the shatterdome in Los Angeles, or even the one he had trained at in Alaska, but there were smaller things, as well, that just didn’t quite feel right. Least of all being the man beside him, with his bright green hair and a lilt in his English and an amused glint that seemed to never leave his eyes.

“Son?” he echoed, confusion bleeding into his tone. He only glanced briefly at the man beside him ( _Genji_ , one of the best rangers this side of the rift, certainly the best in terms of PR with his silver tongue if the interviews were anything to go by). “I ain’t his son.” Jesse lifted a hand, fingers tugging at the brim of his hat, down to hide his eyes from the curious gaze at his side. “But I guess he’s the closes’ thing I got to a dad”

The silence between them grew tense, thick, awkward. When Jesse let the brim of his hat rise again, he could see Genji’s mouth open, and then closed. Silver-tongued and left speechless. Too bad no one else was around to see it. 

“Lost ‘em when I was young.” Jesse’s tone was easy and matter-of-fact, brushing off the situation as though it wasn’t that big of a deal. Which, to him, it wasn’t. It was a simple fact of life. “Real young. I grew up in foster care, mostly. Ended up with the Deadlock Gang not long after Year Zero. Then Gabe picked me up and dragged me into the PPDC. Somehow ended up his co-pilot after Abied got his no-piloting order from the doc.”

It seemed to be enough to lighten the air between them again, and the last of the tension was whipped away as Genji opened a door. The sounds of the shatterdome flooded them again, the catastrophic din of technicians working amongst the three jaegers in the bay, and Jesse followed the other ranger out onto a balcony of sorts, high above the main activity of the base, higher than the heads of the jaegers. A single seat, a large beanbag, sat in one corner beside the wall. A half-full ashtray sat beside it.

“Only rangers are allowed to smoke up here,” Genji explained, letting the door swing closed behind them. “I will organise a copy of the key for you.”

“And another seat?” Jesse ventured, even as his hands were already reaching for his lighter and his cigarillo packet. 

Genji’s expression shifted. Lips tilted into a smirk and head tilted to the side. His eyes flashed almost dangerously. “Another seat?” The pilot made a show of slipping out of his ranger jacket and dropping onto the beanbag in such a way that left space beside him. His eyes trained Jesse’s face and his tone shifted, as well, something more velvety than the American had expected. “There is plenty of room for two of us.”

——

“Get up, _vaquero_. Maybe if you smoked a little less, you wouldn’t run out of breath so easily.”

Jesse simply groaned in response as he pushed himself off the mats on the floor and up onto his knees. Laughter echoing in the kwoon room was treated less politely, Genji earning himself a one-finger salute.

The Japanese pilot only laughed harder.

Endurance wasn’t something that Jesse had a lot of. He had always been a sprinter rather than a marathoner, built for short bursts rather than long hauls. Five hours of endless sparring was pushing his limits to begin with, especially given that the entirety of their first two months at Nagasaki had been nothing but training and simulation work everyday with little chance to properly rest. Add in the sharp jab Gabriel had given to his chest with his staff and there was no chance.

“Can’t I fight someone fun?” he staggered to his feet, pausing only to snatch up the hat the had fallen from his head and then his own staff, using the latter as a prop to help him steady himself. He made a vague gesture in the direction of the Japanese pilots. “Like one of them?”

“Do you have a deathwish?” Hanzo scoffed, though whether there was amusement in there or not, Jesse wasn’t sure. Hanzo was a tricky beast to understand, and Jesse figured he wouldn’t be able to scratch the surface even if they all survived this three year stint.

Genji was warmer about the idea, and even for it, if the way he began to kick off his boots was anything to go by. He only got halfway through removing his jacket, though, before the entire debacle was interrupted by an unmistakeable alarm. 

All four pairs of eyes lifted to a large screen on one wall, watching warning messages scroll along the bottom as a map appeared. They waited with baited breath, seconds dragging into millenia, and only breathed again when a familiar red marker appeared in the Pacific Ocean, blinking, drifting away from their position.

‘ _Category Three. Codename: Hammerjaw. Destination: Baja California Peninsula. Responding Jaeger: Raptora._ ’

“Fareeha.” All exhaustion seemed to leave Jesse so suddenly that he almost fell over. It was enough to make him stumble as he tried to move his legs to get up to LOCCENT control and the only thing that kept him from faceplanting into the mats again was Gabriel’s steady hold catching his arm, and a soothing voice trying to calm him down.

A reminder that they had time; that the kaiju had not even made landfall yet, and Raptora would still be only in the early stages of preparation, and they had time to organise themselves before heading to LOCCENT to watch the entire thing play out.

Staves were stowed and boots were lashed and Jesse’s jacket was handed to him with a look of concern beneath stray green strands of fallen hair. He managed a weak smile (of thanks, and of understanding) and slipped his jacket on.

——

“Jesse, come out with me tonight.”

There was no real conviction in Genji’s voice. There never really was. The first few times he had tried to drag the American out on his weekly club-crawling adventures, he had seemed genuinely disappointed to be turned down. Now, six months on, it was nothing more than routine to ask, even when the answer never changed. It was a conversation that ended before it began, and Genji only emphasised the point by shifting his position. Polystyrene beans squeaked and groaned beneath him and around him, before finally settling once he was comfortable, lying with his head on Jesse’s lap, cigarette still at home between his lips.

“I got an idea,” Jesse countered, one hand removing his cigarillo from his lips so he could allow smoke to waft from his lips while the other tangled fingers into green strands. “Let’s stay here. Steal a few packs of beer and snacks and a datapad. Watch some movies.”

It wasn’t the first time Genji had been offered an alternative, and it wasn’t the first time he found himself considering accepting the offer, either. It was the first time, though, that Jesse’s offer had not extended beyond the two of them. Normally, at the very least, Gabriel and Hanzo were a part of the offer, often with the MEKA rangers as well. Sparring was a regular suggestion. Making use of the buffet in the mess hall was another. Planning pranks, or targeting one or both of their co-pilots. But never something so private.

It was so rarely ever just the two of them. Outside of their twice-daily meetings up here on the smoking balcony, they never really spent time together without Gabriel and Hanzo at their sides. It wasn’t a malicious act, or a dislike of being alone together (Genji enjoyed it, though he would never say as much out loud, being able to relax in the company of someone that wasn’t his brother and without the prodding of a ghost drift). It was simply the nature of rangers. Spending so long in someone else’s head made them something of an extension of yourself and it was almost expected of rangers to be joined to their copilots at the hip.

Genji wasn’t against the idea, but he was concerned.

“Okay,” he accepted, taking one last long drag of the cigarette before reaching to snuff it out into the ashtray. His other hand lifted to brush against Jesse’s jaw, tracing the prickly stubble. “But only if you tell me what is wrong.”

“Nothin’s wrong, partner,” Jesse chuckled as he leaned into the touch. It had become so natural between them now to be so physical. A friendly comfort. “Jus’ reckon it’d be more fun since y’never seem to like the idea of anyone else joinin’ in.”

He watched him closely, hiding under the guise of stealing that cowboy hat from his head and placing it on his own. Jesse smiled, genuinely enough, but it never reached his eyes.

——

Genji was Jesse’s favourite person to spar. Gabriel was too serious and Hanzo, too vicious, and the MEKA pilots only really liked to spar with each other unless they had absolutely no other choice. Genji knew how to make the sparring enjoyable, laughing the entire way through, never really putting his all into the fights. Jesse was grateful for it. He had seen the way the brothers sparred, fast and fluid, dangerous no matter the weapon in their hands, as in awe as he was terrified.

He felt none of that fear, even as a staff passed too close to his head for his liking or a fist nearly made contact with his arm. Genji was all laughs and Jesse was all smiles, even as the younger took the upper hand and brought Jesse’s feet out from underneath him and they landed in a pile of sweating limbs and heaving chests on the mats.

“Enjoy your trip?” Genji teased, significantly less out of breath than Jesse. He still let his head rest, though, on the older pilot’s shoulder, much more worn out than he normally would be after their spars. “You are improving.”

“And you’re gettin’ fat, partner,” Jesse teased lightheartedly, one of his hands pinching at Genji’s side. It was a gentle pinch grabbing nothing more than skin and muscle, but it was enough to disturb a surprised yelp from Genji’s mouth and to have him jerking away from the touch and to create an opening for Jesse to flip them over, pinning the younger pilot to the mat. “Careless, too. Lettin’ your guard down around me already? I’m touched.”

“Perhaps I simply trust you,” was Genji’s counter, though he made no move to free himself.

Jesse tilted his head to one side and the amusement drained from his face. The corners of his mouth tugged to a concerned frown and he lowered his voice, barely above a whisper. “Y’trust me enough to tell me what’s wrong?” he ventured, finally taking the chance to ask what had been bugging him all night. With the looming threat of an attack at any time, they were expected to keep a healthy schedule with a decent amount of sleep every night. Genji asking to spar at two in the morning when the majority of the shatterdome was curled up in their cots had only drawn worry at the time.

A hand lifted to stroke over Genji’s hair and Jesse pressed their foreheads together as the others eyes fell closed.

“I do,” Genji breathed. “But I do not wish to talk about it.”

For a beat, Jesse didn’t move. He kept his weight where it was, heavy enough to press down but light enough that he knew he’d be able to be pushed away if the other pilot wanted his space back. He bumped their noses together, foreheads still touching and Genji’s eyes still closed, and he let the silence hold over them for a few long moments.

Eventually, though, he pulled away and helped Genji to his feet. “I still have a case to finish,” Jesse mused, pulling the subject in a different direction (though his worry still showed in the way he refused to release Genji’s hand). “Datapad should still have some battery. Gabe should be dead asleep by now. Won’t even need headphones since all the technicians are asleep.”

Genji smiled, the expression forced, before ducking his head against Jesse’s chest. “Can I wear your hat?” he asked, the strength in his voice gone now that the issues he had been avoiding were dragged to the forefront of his mind. 

“‘Course y’can, partner,” Jesse slung an arm around Genji’s shoulders loosely, in a one arm embrace. “Can wear my jacket as well, if y’want.”

——

_2021_  
_Category Four. Codename: Ceramander. Destination: Hawaii. Responding Jaegers: Raptora (Los Angeles), Ao Sousha (Nagasaki)_

“Raptora~ Come in, Raptora~ Fareeha, Fareeha~”

Genji’s sing-song tone echoed in the connpod and Hanzo found himself wish he could reach across and, at the very least, flick his brother’s ear to make him shut up. He was toying with the short range communications, interrupting their preparations to take on the approaching kaiju, and even with sitting inside his younger brother’s head, Hanzo still found himself uncertain of motives.

_“We read you, Ao Sousha. This is Fareeha. How can I help?_ ”

“The infamous Fareeha, finally we meet,” Genji continued in the same tone. Hanzo did his best to ignore it, focusing on their systems and instructions coming through the long-range communications. “Jesse has told me much about you.”

_“Jesse has? Oh, then you must be the boyfriend that Captain Reyes mentioned. Genji, right?”_

Genji’s reply was nothing but a startled sputter in an attempt to deny the relationship and Hanzo found it in him to chuckle at his brother’s expense. It earned him a glare but he hardly considered it effective, considering the red seeping into the younger’s cheeks.

“Perhaps not officially together, but I have certainly been unable to sleep in my own bed many times,” Hanzo interjected, tone flippant and calm despite the rising temper he could feel on his right. He would deal with his brother’s embarrassment once they had returned to the shatterdome. “Now, if you would not mind, we have a kaiju to deal with and I do not plan on drowning this far from home.”

——

“Going to the medical wing?” 

Gabriel’s voice had Jesse stopping in his tracks, one boot on, the other fallen over on the floor of their shared room. He glanced up, dark eyes meeting the gaze watching him so intently, before he looked down again as non-chalantly as he could manage, busying his fingers with lacing the boots. 

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “Why?”

“Fareeha left a message.” There was a shift as Gabriel kicked off his boots, ignoring everything his military training had engrained into him about taking care of his gear. Ceramander’s attack two days ago had broken an eight-month spell on a lack of attacks, which made him confident they were safe to relax now. He’d worry about it later. The pilot reached for the phone beside his bed, fingers sliding over the screen in search of the message he had received to read it out word for word. “‘ _Tell Jesse that it’s rude to deny another pilot sleep, especially if it’s because you’re sleeping with someone you’re not even with. At least ask Genji out first.’_ You still dancing around that kid?”

Jesse sighed, but didn’t answer, simply moved on to putting on his other boot.

“What are you scared of, _vaquero_?” Gabriel placed the phone back down and leaned back against the headboard of his bed, eyes still watching Jesse even if he couldn’t see past the brim of his hat. “Acceptance isn’t an issue. Everyone already thinks it’s happening. It’s not like you’re interfering with Genji and Hanzo’s piloting. Hanzo’s even told me that he’s happy to see his brother close to someone outside of family. He’s not in the medical ward because of you, so you can’t blame that on yourself. Are you scared he doesn’t feel the same? You can’t really believe that. And for us fighting death every time we go out, it’s better to take every chance we can.”

“Isn’t that more reason to not say anything?” Jesse’s voice was weak, distant, and his hands had come to rest in his lap, his boots properly secured.

Gabriel’s expression fell, lips pursing into a frown. “You’d rather regret not saying anything at all? It’s not worth it, Jesse. Take it from me. You’re still young. You can afford to take the chance.”

“Gabe—“

“ _Mijo,_ ” Gabriel stood and moved to sit beside Jesse, an arm slinging around his co-pilot’s shoulders. “I won’t push you to do what you don’t want to do. It’s up to you. I just don’t want you to have any regrets coming out of this. Don’t fuck up like me and Jack did.”

“You and Morrison are different to us,” Jesse’s tone was still that of a protest, but it remained in his tone alone, his body leaning into the arm around him. “Known each other longer, been through more shit together.”

“Spent far too much time in each others heads, as well.” It was added with a sigh and Gabriel dropped his head to lean it against Jesse’s, squashing the brim of the younger’s hat. “It isn’t that much better, Jesse, being romantic with a co-pilot, no matter what the stories say. You and Genji, it’s something special. You get to be normal, not have to worry about drift problems, and me and Hanzo are just family, not competition to get into both of your heads.”

Silence followed for a long moment, and Gabriel allowed it. It wasn’t often Jesse got like this, serious and considering every word he was given and so careful of the words he chose, and he wasn’t about to interrupt the moment, not when it seemed that Jesse desperately needed it. Jesse had never really known parents, and children had never been an option for Gabriel even outside of military and romantic interests, so it always felt that the least he could do was play a surrogate father to the closest thing he had to a son.

“Thanks, _padre_ ,” was Jesse’s whispered response when he finally broke the silence and took his own weight again, sitting up and pulling away from the one-armed embrace. “I’ll… I’ll think about it. Ain’t gonna promise more’n that.”

“That’s all I ask, _mijo_.”

——

_“Genji, McCree's here_.”

There was no vocalised response, only the shifting of blankets and mattress springs as Genji bundled himself further in his cocoon. The room was dark, the light off, and Hanzo found himself torn between sympathetic pity and frustration. He understood the sentiment. He wanted to be right where Genji was now, cut off from the entire outside world and hiding away in his own frustrations and mourning, but he couldn’t. He was the older brother, the one with a duty to take care of everything, and he couldn’t afford such weakness and it frustrated him with a jealousy he knew was misplaced that Genji’s response to their father’s death had been to lock himself away completely.

_“Do you want to see him?”_ Hanzo asked the silent pile in the corner of the room, resisting looking back over his shoulder. It had been the same thing every day for the past two weeks, and he knew that speaking Japanese in front of McCree was enough to set the American on edge without casting concerned gazes back over his shoulder towards him as well. _“You can’t hide from this forever, Genji. If you won’t talk to anyone, at least let him in._ ”

The pile on the bed moved again, and for a moment, Hanzo dared to hope. It fell again with a sigh when the blankets only rolled tighter still, pressing against the wall as though trying to become a part of it. Tired eyes lingered on his brother’s hidden form before he finally conceded and stepped out of the room again, closing the door.

“I… apologise.” The switch to English was always a slow one for Hanzo, and the entire situation only served to make it even harder to find strength to put into his words. He turned from the door and lifted his head to face the American, guilt rolling over him at the way McCree’s eyes fell, saddened and weakened. “He still has not said a word. I was able to convince him to leave yesterday, but only because there were rituals to attend to. He has not eaten in two days, and I can already feel something wrong with the drift between us…”

There was more to say. Hanzo could feel the words building up in the back of his throat, words that he’d prefer not sharing with anyone let alone McCree, but it felt that once he started, he could not stop. It made him thankful, for once, for the American’s lack of awareness of personal space. Large arms wrapped around him and he found himself pulled into a broad chest, and it was enough of a surprise to stop the words dead in his throat.

“Easy, partner,” McCree’s voice was low and velvety and comforting, as though he knew Hanzo needed the grounding. Perhaps he did. More than once Hanzo had been surprised by the man’s ability to read a situation and act intelligently. Hanzo allowed himself the comfort as the American continued to coo, and even allowed an arm to lift around the other in return. “You’re both takin’ it real hard, I know… And I know you ain’t let yourself have a moment neither. And I know Genji and your dad were real close, but that ain’t mean you gotta hold back on your own feelings.”

One of the arms around him wandered, a hand rubbing along his spine. McCree’s words eventually came to an end, leaving them both standing in a silent embrace in the middle of the room that served as the brothers’ living area, and Hanzo felt his shoulders easing even just a little. It wasn’t enough to ease him completely, and he knew he would not find that level of comfort, not in a man like McCree, but it was something and Hanzo was grateful.

“Thank you,” he said, calm as he eased himself away from the embrace and took a step back to create space between them again. He glanced back over his shoulder, back towards the door of the bedroom, and he was silent for a long moment as he considered his options. He could play this out like he had every day since the announcement; send McCree on his way and linger in the silence of the space alone. Or he could do something about it. Make a difference. Take a risk that could mean his brother hating him and closing up more, because it also had a chance of being the hand to help Genji out of his hole.

Hanzo stepped aside.

“Talk to him. Please.”

McCree seemed taken aback, eyebrows lifting high beneath his fringe and the brim of his hat, but the expression eased within a few seconds. There was a tug of the brim, some form of thanks, Hanzo understood, and then the American stepped forward. Hanzo didn’t move, simply watched McCree slip inside and the door close behind him, and he stayed like that for a few seconds more. He could hear the man’s voice, though the words were muffled and there was no other sign of a change inside.

Eventually, Hanzo moved. Busied himself with preparing something to eat in the small kitchenette, with cleaning dishes, with folding a pile of laundry, with flicking through compiled reports of all the previous kaiju attacks and the theories of the scientists trying to predict a pattern. Anything to keep his hands busy and his mind distracted.

It never worked for long, his gaze always wandering back to the bedroom door.

He felt a sense of deja vu, every time his eyes landed on the door, ears listening for that same low, muffled voice; a reminder of all those nights in the past year and a half of returning from training to find himself evicted from his bed because of Genji and McCree’s antics. He found himself wishing for those nights again, wishing that this was just another night as simple as those.

Hanzo’s train of thought snapped at a creak and he sat at attention as he watched the door swing open. He watched in silence as McCree left the room and closed the door behind him, and it took him longer than he would admit out loud to realise that something was missing. McCree’s hair was far from attractive, glued to his head even without his hat to pin it in place, and there were goosebumps along his bare arms, his ranger jacket now missing.

Hanzo didn’t ask, but McCree answered anyway.

“He ain’t talkin’ to me, neither,” was the quiet admission, the American pilot stepping away from the bedroom door. “But he listened. Least, he looked like he was listenin’.” A sigh.  
I ain’t wanna impose or nothin’, but whaddya say to a swap for a night or two? Gabe’s worried sick about you both as well, and bein’ here ain’t doin’ you any good ‘cause you ain’t lookin’ after yourself when you’re stressin’ over Genji. And y’know Gabe’s always more’n happy to be there for you.”

“That…” Hanzo rolled the idea over in his head for a moment. His pride felt insulted at the insinuation that he could not look after himself, or after his own brother, and he almost turned the proposal down on that alone. He was tired, though; tired enough that his pride was taking a back seat to sensibility, and he knew there was some truth in McCree’s words. There were no funeral rituals to worry about for another week, so a simple day to allow himself time was nothing in the grand scheme of things. A day to properly mourn like a twenty-six year old losing his father so suddenly, rather than like an old man saying goodbye to an old friend. “That may be for the best.”

For the second time that night, McCree seemed taken aback, stunned that his suggestion had been so readily accepted, but Hanzo didn’t linger on it. He simply stood from the sofa, eyes wandering towards the bedroom door yet again.

“Does Genji know?” he asked, not looking at the other pilot.

“I told him I’d suggest it, but I ain’t told him it would happen for sure.”

“Then I will tell him and I will prepare some of my belongings to bring with me.”

——

“I thought you were going to cut your hair.”

Jesse let his head loll to one side, leaning towards the touch of fingers playing over his hair, tugging at the small curl in his ponytail and combing through the strands at the front of his face not quite long enough to be tied back. He hummed for a moment, eyes closed in the comfort of the touch even as those same fingers eased his hairtie from his hair, letting the dark strands fall over his shoulders and over the beanbag he was reclining in.

“You didn’t seem t’like that idea,” Jesse mused, an eye peeking open to meet the eyes watching his face. It closed again a moment later and he shifted his head forward, bumping their noses together as best he could with Genji’s head using his shoulder as a pillow. “Ain’t got it in me to deny y’like that.”

There was silence, and the fingers in his hair stilled, and Jesse felt a familiar chill run down his spine; fear that he had pushed too far again. The boundaries were unspoken, toed in sand rather than properly drawn out, a conversation they were still bouncing around almost two years on. He’d claim that it wasn’t entirely either of their faults. Real life and their duties simply got in the way. The last time Jesse had mustered up the strength to finally want to discuss it, tragedy had hit and even now, months on, it was still hard to get Genji out of bed some mornings when he felt weak from depression and mourning for his father.

There were already too many stressors in Genji’s life. Jesse didn’t want to add another.

The fingers resumed their movements and Jesse felt his entire body relax, letting go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His eyes stayed closed even as he felt Genji shift, and he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips when the other pilot’s head nuzzled closer. He could smell the lingering scent of tobacco on Genji’s skin, mixing with cologne and aftershave, and there was a warmth coming from him, as well, where their noses and foreheads touched and every exhale breathed a warm cloud on each others skin.

——

Jesse was, Gabriel had learned years ago, terrible at hiding anything.

When he wanted to be, the kid could smooth talk and silver-tongue his way through most situations, but that didn’t make a good at hiding his intentions. He was easier to read than an open book, especially when something was gnawing at him. It ate into his expressions and his actions, and nothing gave it away more than watching Jesse roll a solitary pea back and forth across his plate.

“What is it, _niño_?” Gabriel finally asked with a sigh, lowering his glass from his lips and swallowing a mouthful of water. There was a beat where his co-pilot looked up then back down at his pea and heaved a sigh. “Is it about the meeting?”

“It just don’t feel right.” The rolling stopped and the innocent pea found itself impaled on the young man’s fork to emphasise his words. “It’s _Ao Sousha_ ’s home turf, and MEKA have been here longer’n us. And we were meant to be headin’ back to LA soon, righ’? So why make us first responders? You’ve got the most experience as a ranger, sure, but I ain’t got shit, and us together, we’re the least experienced pair. Second responders, maybe, but not first. It just don’t feel right…”

“You don’t want to stay longer?”

Jesse pursed his lips in a frown, eyes meeting Gabriel’s. “ _That’s_ what you’re takin’ from that?”

Gabriel chuckled. “I’m taking a lot from it. That was just the first thing.” He shovelled another mouthful of his food into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing and continuing. “It’s Hanzo’s call. The Shimada family funds this base, as well. Not just the jaeger. He’s gotta fill his dad’s place sometime. They aren’t retiring. Hanzo just has to focus elsewhere for a while and Genji still needs to finish recovering, so neither of them are in the best state to be piloting. MEKA are getting ready to move bases down to Hong Kong to replace Typhoon while he undergoes repairs. And Hanzo trusts us. He wants us to stay here long term.”

“But why us?”

“Because I’ve been piloting alongside _Sousha_ as long as they’ve been around,” Gabriel stated matter-of-factly, placing his cutlery down. “And because Hanzo fully believes Genji would still be catatonic, maybe even dead, if not for you. He’s scared what’ll happen to Genji if he separates the two of you.

“ _Jefe_ , come on, I don’t do that much.”

“Bullshit. Genji’s dependent on you. Has been for months. A year. Maybe the whole two years we’ve been here.” There was a pause as Gabriel leaned back in his seat, tugging his beanie from his head to run his over hand over his hair. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s just a thing. You can both act independent of each other and do your jobs, but I’ve seen the two of you if you don’t get time to yourselves at least once a day.”

Jesse sighed and lifted his fork, finally eating the pea.

“It’s not going to change much,” Gabriel continued. “All it means is we’ll be out front and _Sousha_ ’ll have our backs. If we’re lucky, any upcoming attacks’ll be south or east and we can rest easy until MEKA are back and settled.”

——

_2024_  
_Category Four. Codename: Spinejackal. Destination: Okinawa. Responding Jaegers: Chupacabra (Nagasaki), Ao Sousha (Nagasaki)_

Kaiju learned fast. It was something everyone had figured out early on in the war. They were constantly adapting and changing, growing stronger against the weapons that had killed their predecessors. Soon they’d have no weakness, or that’s what the scientists thought.

Genji didn’t buy it.

Everything had a weakness.

Every _one._

He was Hanzo’s. Always had been. Brothers in a dark world, with clear favourites in their parents, but still each others favourites above that. No one could ever break through Hanzo’s shell except Genji. No one could get to Hanzo the way Genji knew he could. And, in school, anyone brave enough to try had learned the easiest way to get on Hanzo’s bad side was to hurt his younger brother.

But Genji’s weakness wasn’t Hanzo. He had always thought it was, and maybe it was still true, to a lesser extent.

His true weakness was right in front of him, out of arms reach, out of _Sousha_ ’s reach.

Genji gritted his teeth.

“No!” His hand slammed down, opening the short-range communications, eyes squinting in a glare past the lights inside his drivesuit helmet. “ _No_ , Jesse McCree. You do not— You do _not_ get to say that like this.” His hand shook and his voice shook and the only thing preventing his shaking legs from giving way was the strength of his brother on his left. His chest heaved and he flinched at the sound of a blast from Chupacabra’s pulse cannon echoing through the communications. 

They were too far out to see exactly what was happening, only able to make out the shapes of the jaeger and the kaiju on the horizon and the unmistakeable blast of blue. It seemed enough to knock Spinejackal back, at least enough to give the jaeger room to reform and prepare.

A familiar pull in his mind melted into a comforting warmth. His brother reaching out for him, steadying him, keeping him from chasing. He returned the mental touch. Grateful.

His fingers lingered on the communications as they neared the fight.

“I refuse to accept it unless it is in person,” Genji’s tone was easier, now, but still ragged and desperate. The chuckle he received didn’t help. It felt wrong. Weak and forced. So typical of Jesse to be the sunshine in a storm, fighting to shine. Genji faltered. “Promise… Promise me, Jesse. You will tell me to my face. You will say it in person. Promise me, Jesse.”

_“Alright, darlin’,”_ came the easy drawl across the communications, as though there wasn’t a large kaiju bearing down upon Chupacabra. _“Promise I’ll tell you to your face right after we deal with this beast. But, y’know—“_

“Jesse, do not—“

_“I really do love you, Genji_.”

Genji’s right hand curled at his side. The warm touch pressed down on his mind. He didn’t need to turn his head to see the concern in his brother’s eyes. He blinked away tears and blinked away hesitation and pain, and opened the comms line again.

“I love you, too, Jesse.”

(The last he saw of Chupacabra was her left arm, rip from its socket, sinking into the deep of the ocean as the rest of her body disappeared beneath the waves.)

——

Genji wakes with a start, sweat soaking his nightshirt and pillow and blankets, and his chest heaving. His heart thunders in his head, racing a mile a minute and his hands shake uncontrollably as he brings them to his face to try and rub away the tears forming at his eyes. Another hand beats them, though, a rough yet gentle touch thumbing over his eyelids and a comforting croon at his ear.

“Just a dream, darlin’,” it murmurs, velvety as ever, grounding him with a thick body of warmth beside him. “All just a dream.”

“Jesse..?” Genji whispers, voice still shaky and uncertain, eyes blinking against the darkness. He reaches a hand out, searching for the face so close to his and he hates the way he flinches when that hand leaves his face to grab his wrist instead.

“‘m righ’ here, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

There’s a shudder in his chest as Genji lets out a breath before he all but throws himself into Jesse’s form, face coming to hide against a shoulder and arms wrapping around his torso. The elder’s arm wraps around him in return, holding him as close as he can manage.

“Wanna share what you were dreamin’ about?” Jesse’s voice stays low and velvety and warm, lips moving against the shell of Genji’s ear, and it’s enough to ground him further, cementing him in reality and preventing him from floating off back into his dreams.

“Spinejackal,” he breathes. There’s a hum from Jesse and a press of lips to the top of his head. A sign that he’s listening; to continue. “We were so close… If we had been faster…”

“Now, now, none of tha’, darlin’,” Jesse chides with a hand combing through Genji’s dark hair, easing out tangled strands. “You and Hanzo did more’n enough.”

“But… Gabriel… and your arm—“

“’s just an arm,” Jesse insists as he always does, but Genji knows just how hard the past three years have been for him to adjust to his non-dominant hand and uncomfortable prosthetics that are never quite _right_. “And Gabe… we all know Gabe never wanted to go out any other way…”

Genji whimpers. Jesse hums a song he recalls Gabriel humming in middle of sleepless nights.

“I… do not wish to go back to sleep,” he finally manages when he finds his voice again, mumbled into the warmth of Jesse’s shoulder.

“I was just thinkin’ I could go for a smoke.”

The Sante Fe air is chill in the dark of the morning but Genji fights it by curling into Jesse’s chest as the larger ex-pilot lounges on the porch and he tugs his boyfriend’s serape around them both, settling in for the sunrise.


End file.
